


What Ails You

by iscatterthemintimeandspace



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fix-It, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 21:51:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2788991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iscatterthemintimeandspace/pseuds/iscatterthemintimeandspace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the #BetterBotfa Fix it event on Tumblr</p><p>Fili wakes up to find out his whole world's been turned upside down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Ails You

**Author's Note:**

> Note: As of the moment I'm posting this, I have not seen BOTFA

_‘Where am I?’_ Fili thought, his head finally clear of the hazy feeling that normally accompanied being knocked out. Realizing his last clear memory was charging the Pale Orc as he stood over Thorin’s lifeless body, the injured prince bolted up suddenly, gasping at the pain that shot through his body. 

The unexpected breath caused him to wince again, his hand shooting to his chest. His ribs were definitely broken; several in fact, he surmised, as he tried to assess the damage with his fingers, only to find that he was unable to move them. It was only as he looked at the damaged mess that was his left hand, that he noticed he could only see out of one of his eyes. 

His good hand sought his face, only to find a mass of stiff gauze wrapped around his head. ‘My eye!’ Panic flooded his body as he probed through the bandages and was only met with searing pain. _‘What happened to my eye?’_

The pain shot him back to reality. Where was Thorin? Kili? His remaining eye darted around the tent, searching in terror for his brother and uncle. His heart was hammering against his battered chest, sending tendrils of pain spiraling outwards. It only stopped when he saw Kili, frightfully silent on the other side of the room. 

“Kili?” he called across the room, his voice hoarse from disuse. No answer. 

“Kee?” he tried again, watching for some small sign his brother was alive. But Kili was as still as death. 

Fili began to get out of bed, but was stopped by a gentle voice entering the tent. 

“I wouldn't do that if I were you, lad,” Balin said lightly, a smile on his face. Fili looked at him with a beseeching eye. 

“Kili is fine,” the adviser reassured him, moving to sit on the end of his bed. “The willow and poppy should be wearing off any time now. His injuries were… worse than yours.”

“Worse?” Fili croaked. 

“Aye. There were times we didn’t think he, or yourself for that matter, were going to make it…” 

“Times?” the prince repeated confused. “How long have we been out, Balin?”

The older dwarrow looked thoughtful. “Four days, on and off.” 

Fili sucked in a hurried breath, hissing yet again at the pain. “What happened?” 

“As far as we can tell,” Balin started, lacing his fingers together on his lap. “You charged Azog. Your brother followed suit after he saw you get hit. The orc crushed his leg.” 

Fili froze as the realization hit. “Did he lose his leg?”

“Lose it? No. He’ll have a limp, but it’ll heal. The lad will have some scarring though, as will you. I’m sorry about your eye.” 

The prince touched his face lightly, fingers trailing down the bandages. “It’s gone then?”

“Oin tried, Fili,” Balin looked down into his hands, as if trying to find the words. “But he was afraid of infection setting in and-”

Tuning Balin out, Fili looked across the room, his remaining eye searching the rest of the beds. _‘It could be worse’,_ he thought ever pragmatic, breathing slowly in and out to steady himself. _‘I could be dead. Kili could be…’_

He had to get to Kili, had to make sure he was alright. Despite what he’d heard, he wouldn’t believe it until he saw his brother with his own eyes. Ignoring the older dwarrow’s earlier warning, Fili made an attempt to get out of bed. That was a mistake. His knees gave out, and the prince crumpled to the floor. 

Balin gave a gasp of surprise before helping the blond to his feet. “Steady now, steady.”

“Fee?” 

Fili’s eyes darted to his brother lying prone on the bed, everything else pushed from his mind by his brother’s awakening. The brunet was struggling to sit up through the haze much like Fili had. 

The blond hobbled over to his bed, life slowly returning to his stiff joints. “I’m here, Kee, I’m here.”

It was then that he could fully see the extent of Kili’s injuries. There were deep, stitched over lacerations running from his nose across his left cheek and down the side of his neck. There was gauze bandaged over his right shoulder and chest, spots of blood dotting the otherwise pristine white fabric, and then there was his leg. His left leg was wrapped tightly between two boards. Fili could smell the ointment under the bandages, could almost taste the blood on his tongue. 

He reached forward and put his hand to Kili’s uninjured cheek. “Oh, Kee, your face…” 

“Is it bad?” Kili asked in response, looking imploringly into his brother’s eyes. Fili studied the wounds closely, turning the brunet’s face in his hand. 

“They’ll look…. distinguished, I think,” Fili added with a nod, more grateful that his brother as alive and mostly whole than concentrating on the superficial injuries. 

The brunet wrinkled his nose. “Distinguished?” he pouted, putting his chin in the air. “I’ve heard the ladies like a man with scars.”

“Ladies are your concern now?” Fili snorted. “You’re an idiot.” 

“Where’s Thorin?” Kili questioned, his eyes darting to Balin. “You wouldn’t tell me last time.” 

“His injuries are… extensive.” Balin answered gravely, crossing the room again to stand at the foot of the bed. “He’s been in and out since they brought him in.”

“We’ll just have to go wake him up then, won’t we?” Kili countered, scooting to the edge of the bed. “Help me, Fee.”

“No, no, no,” Balin said. “You aren’t allowed out of bed, either of you. You’re still healing.”

“I feel fine, Balin. What about you, Kili?” 

“Never better,” Kili replied, throwing his uninjured arm over Fili’s shoulder and hopping out of bed. Balin tried to stop them, but the princes would not be deterred. They even refused his offers of help. 

Slowly but surely, the pair made their way out of the tent, accompanied by loud and frequent hisses and gasps of pain. Several dwarves they saw along the way were gawking at the battered and injured boys, hopping and hobbling their way across the camp to their uncle’s tent, with the King’s head adviser in close pursuit. 

A stench of sickness pervaded the air inside the tent as the princes made their way inside. Thorin was nestled among the pillows in a large bed, his face cut and bruised almost beyond recognition. His beard was shorn in some places, his chest bandaged haphazardly.

Dwalin was slumped over a wooden chair in the corner, arms folded over his chest, guarding the king even into death. He looked mostly whole, a couple bandages and stitches adding to his already fierce countenance. 

More surprising still was Bilbo. The hobbit was curled in another small cot, close to Thorin’s, snoring away. He had gauze around his head, his curls poking out defiantly from underneath. He also had a blooming black eye, but seemed to be sleeping easily. Fili had not expected their burglar to be anywhere close to Erebor after Thorin hung him over the edge of the mountain, threatening the halfling with his life. And yet, there he was, close till the end. 

Fili and Kili snuck closer, careful to tread as lightly as they could, and sat on the sides of the bed, Kili propping his injured leg next to Thorin. His body was disturbingly warm, almost too warm.

“Uncle, hey! Uncle Thorin! Wake up!” Kili wheedled, poking the sleeping dwarrow between them around his bandages. 

“C’mon, Uncle. Wake up,” Fili followed up, poking Thorin’s other side. 

Thorin grunted and moved slightly. Fili’s eyes widened at his brother. He had honestly not expected him to move. 

They poked and prodded him in earnest now, just like they had when they were dwarflings. They would often resort to this kind of behavior when Thorin was slow to rise. The two children would bound from their bedroom to jump on their sleeping uncle, especially during the holidays. 

The King grunted again, rolling over slowly, as if trying to protect himself from the onslaught. 

“Geroff,” he mumbled, his voice cracking painfully. Fili and Kili nudged some more, trying to elicit another sound from the dwarf between them.

“It’s too early,” Thorin grumped. “Yuleblot doesn’t start till sun-up. Go back to sleep…”

Fili started chuckling. He couldn’t help himself, even though it hurt. The laugh erupted over his lips, filling the sick-smelling tent with joy. Kili joined in, his lower voice cascading over Fili’s and mingling in the air. 

Dwalin woke with a start, glaring intensely at anyone who would disturb his King’s slumber. Even Bilbo poked his nose up at the racket the princes were making. 

Tears began to form at the corners of Fili’s eyes, he was laughing so hard, the bed shaking from the brothers’ combined weight. 

Between them, Thorin’s eyes fluttered open, hazy no doubt with the after-effects of the medicine he’d been given. He looked back and forth from Fili to Kili, his lips twitching slowly into a smile. 

“Idiot nephews,” he growled, chuckling as much as he was able with a chest full of bandages. He brought his arms around them gingerly, only causing them to giggle more. Fili sunk into his embrace, his heart swelling with the realization that despite all that they’d been through, everything was going to be alright. 

“We love you too, Uncle.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Beng, my wonderful beta for looking this over


End file.
